


Tombmates

by happygolovely



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Attempt at Humor, Bats, Domestic, F/F, F/M, Family Dynamics, Hotels, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Minor Violence, People Die But They Get Better, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Friendship, Roommates, Summer of Gotham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happygolovely/pseuds/happygolovely
Summary: The Van Dahl Estates were renowned as the Underworld’s finest final resting place, a temporary lodge for ghosts, ghouls and garish creatures. Ed looked at the brochure, skimming over the amenities and atrocities on tap. Ever since his transformation into a creature of the night, his apartment had felt more oppressive than comforting. The bright lights of the city and the harsh sounds were too much for his heightened senses. His time at the GCPD was even worse with the constant temptation of blood and bodies. More than once he had to stop himself from feeding on Doctor Thompkins and once to his great horror, Harvey Bullock. Yes, no doubt it was time for a change.This might be just what he needed.





	Tombmates

The Van Dahl Estates were renowned as the Underworld’s finest final resting place, a temporary lodge for ghosts, ghouls and garish creatures. Ed looked at the brochure, skimming over the amenities and atrocities on tap. Ever since his transformation into a creature of the night, his apartment had felt more oppressive than comforting. The bright lights of the city and the harsh sounds were too much for his heightened senses. His time at the GCPD was even worse with the constant temptation of blood and bodies. More than once he had to stop himself from feeding on Doctor Thompkins and once to his great horror, Harvey Bullock. Yes, no doubt it was time for a change. He turned in his request for two weeks leave and it was granted.

 

He arrived at the estates with his bags in tow, surprised to find the place utterly deserted. A ghost town. He smiled. It was no doubt part of the ambiance or some sort of illusion to displace wandering mortals. He knocked on the door. No response. He knocked again.

 

He must have sat outside for about twenty minutes altogether until he decided to investigate. The gardens were overrun and unruly, nature barely held at bay. He skimmed his fingers through the hedges and winced in pain. His fingers dripped black blood and upon closer inspection, he found a colony of bats inside. He peered in and waved to them.

 

Still relatively new to his not life, he had not yet fully parsed which of the myths were true.

It was entirely possible these bats were guests of the hotel. He swept off his hat and kneeled down to speak to them. They weren’t particularly responsive to his riddles but most people weren’t so that wasn’t much of a surprise. He was well into a ramble on zoology when he felt a chill up his spine.

 

“What on earth do you think you are doing?”  

 

He turned around and saw the most striking creature he had ever seen. His bright fangs gleamed in the moonlight and his eyes were as sharp as the sky.

 

“Forgive me, I was just having a chat with Babington and Bismark.”

 

The man chuckled. “You do realize they’re just bats, don’t you?”  

 

Ed’s cheeks turned soft gray in embarrassment. “Oh yes, of course. I just find them to be better conversationalists than most people.”  

 

“I can’t fault you for that.” Cold assessing eyes. “You’re new.”  

 

“Well, I -”  

 

“That wasn’t a question. What’s your name, youngling?”

 

“Edward. Edward Nygma.” He held out his hand to shake and the vampire’s eyes widened.

 

“Oswald Cobblepot, at your service. I take it you’re seeking accommodations but I’m afraid the estates have been closed to guests. The hotel is not as it was.”  

 

“That’s a shame, it’s such a beautiful place.”   

 

He smiled gently. “Thank you, it was my father’s pride and joy. Well apart from me of course.”  

 

“He must be Mister Van Dahl then. His generosity is well known, I had hoped to meet him.”

 

“My father is no longer with us. There was an incident with a hunter you understand.”  

 

Ed placed his hand on his shoulder consolingly. “I am truly sorry for your loss.”

 

Oswald looked at him in wonder as if it was the first words of reassurance he had heard in months.

 

“Would you like to, that is would you care to come in for a drink? I still have some bottles of A+ knocking around here if you’d like.”  

 

Ed smiled and nodded his acceptance, following him inside. “You wouldn’t happen to have any O negative on tap, would you? I seem to have developed a taste for the stuff. “  

 

Oswald smiled and waved him into the parlor. “I’ll see what I can manage.”  

 

They talk long into the night, drinking and describing their best kills. Before they know it’s nearly dawn.

 

“Thank you for the company, it’s been wonderful to discuss these things with someone so like-minded but I really must be going.” Ed picked his hat up off the floor and straightened his tie, a soft hand stopped him in his tracks.

 

“Stay. Until tomorrow night at least. I can’t let you out in this sunlight.” Oswald smirked. “Terrible for the complexion.”  

 

Ed laughed and agreed to stay. There was something compelling about this place, its caretaker.

 

And Ed was a fool for compulsion.

 

* * *

 

Oswald insisted on giving him the finest suite available, just down the hall from his own. It was absolutely stunning the walls dripping with brutal beauty. His coffin was padded with satin and he spent the day inside it, reading and resting. He had never known such luxury and he wouldn’t waste a moment of it. For the first time since his transformation, he found himself dreading the night. He had only just arrived but it felt more like home than any he had ever known. Still, he was tired and he found himself reluctantly giving in to his fatigue.  

 

Some hours later, Oswald woke him from his deep sleep and took him on a guided tour of the mansion. Showing off the torture chambers, ballroom, and library. It was full to the brim with Victorian novels and old spell books from his mother’s collection.

 

They picked up a nice man in the country and brought him over for supper, spilling red across the dining room table.

 

“You’ve got a little something right there, dear?”

Ed blinked and unhinged his fangs. “Hmm?”  

 

Oswald pulled out his handkerchief and carefully dabbed the blood off his chin. He leaned in closer still and pressed the fabric against the corner of his mouth till the blood ran clean.

 

“Such a messy eater, you have no table manners. Honestly who raised you?”  

 

Ed froze. “I’m sorry, I’ll - I’ll do better next time I promise.”  

 

“Hmmm, breeding shows Edward if you want good bleeding you’ve got to practice. Now let’s start with the wrist and work our way up, alright.” Oswald demonstrated the proper techniques for the arteries and veins. A river of red trailed through the skin and Oswald drank with grace and gore in equal measure. Ed’s eyes fixed on his twisted teeth and the dark lines of his neck.

 

Bloodthirst as he had never known in consumed him and he pressed against his back, moving the hair on his neck to the side. Just one bite, barely a nibble really. Oswald’s head thrown back as he drank deep from the bitterest of wine. Those eyes black as the starless sky and his mouth red an-

 

“Edward, pay attention. Now that you’ve got him where you want him you’ve got to make use-”

 

Ed blinked and returned to himself. Oswald was still going through the proper procedure and he quickly reapplied himself to the task at hand. In short time, they finished their meal and Ed convinced himself it was a momentary misdirection.

 

He retired to dead and woke up the next night to find rigor mortis had set in. Stiff as a corpse. He tried to loosen his limbs to no avail.

 

All of his body had seized up during the day and he couldn’t move an inch. He opened his mouth to scream and found all the air in his lungs turned to blood. Desperately he thrashed against the silence that stole him and still he remained utterly still.

 

The lid of the coffin opened and Oswald looked down at him with worry. “I keep forgetting how young you really are.” He reached in and locked Ed’s arms about his neck and pulled him up. “Easy does it now, that’s it I’ve got you.”  

 

He set him down carefully on the chaise lounge and smoothed back his hair. “You’ve never had any formal training, you didn’t grow up with anyone like you and I’m the first person you’ve ever met who doesn’t run from you on sight. Correct?”

 

Ed nodded, still regaining his breath. He supposed he didn’t need it anymore but it was reassuring.

 

“It’s just as I thought - Edward you’re a fledgling. Your transformation is still in progress but its a delicate time in your development. Most young ones have a mentor, a patron to support them but you’re all alone. Without someone to guide you - the consequences can be dire.”

 

“What kind of consequences?”

 

“You’ll bleed. Bleed for anyone who speaks to you, anyone who is kind to you. You’ll form attachments at the drop of a knife and lose them just as quickly. No one around you will be safe as your bloodlust turns to madness and madness to grief. I nearly lost myself to it once.”

 

“Is there anything to be done?”

 

Oswald shook his head. “Our kind can’t live in isolation and the vampire colonies of Gotham are notoriously selective and with your lack of etiquette, you’ll be turned away at once. If you could find a sponsor that would be one thing -”  

 

“Why can’t I stay here with you? You’ll teach me everything I need to know.”

 

“And in exchange?”

 

“Anything you need, anything at all.”

 

Oswald’s eyes darkened with sinister intent. “You ought to know better than to say such things.”

 

“You’ll do it then - be my patron?”

 

“I’ll be your instructor. I’ll teach you to conduct yourself correctly and induct you into society. And you’ll do anything I ask in return.”

 

“WIthin reason.”

 

Oswald pulled out a switchblade and cut careful lines down the center of their palms to seal the blood pact. After the shook on it, Oswald pressed his handkerchief into his hand as a token of his friendship and esteem. The initials _OCC_ bright against Ed’s skin as he traced the monogram.  

 

Ed had never quite fit in with humans, there was no guideline to matching the baseline of their fragile hearts and weaker souls. It was distressing to realize he was just as unsuited for life in the underworld but now he had a guide. A friend.

 

Life after death was looking up.

 

* * *

 

“Straighten your back, chin up, eyes forward. And walk.”

 

Ed ducked down as Oswald piled the books atop his head and straightened back up.

 

His posture, it had been decided, was unacceptable. He turned about the room, trying not to topple them walking slowly and carefully. Oswald tsked his disapproval.

 

“Do I have to do everything around here? Do as I do.” He placed five books atop his head, squared his shoulders and walked beside Ed. “Mirror me. Study, imitate and inflict.”

 

Ed followed along after him, the books atop his head teetering dangerously. When they reached the doorway, Oswald walked through with ease. Ed’s head on its on reached the doorframe and he tried to bend his knees low enough so he could pass. The books fell on a pile to the floor and Oswald sighed, pinched his nose. Picked up the books and handed them to him.

 

“Once more.” Ed began again and Oswald pressed his fingertips against the small of his back. He leaned in close, the feeling of his breath and the curl of his touch.

 

“Imagine there’s piano wire wrapped around your spine, a copra pressing against it. You must move cautiously to ensure it doesn’t crush you. Walk with me.”  

 

Oswald offered him his hand and they moved about the room as one. They switched hands and circled each other. Oswald bowed and Ed reflexively bowed back. The books hit Oswald on the head and he nearly fell over before Ed caught him about the waist and set him back up.

 

The slide of fabric and the press of his hand.

 

If Oswald still had blood flowing, he would surely be red by now. “That’s quite enough of that for the day. Meet me in the parlor in forty minutes, we need to review your dinner etiquette.”

 

Ed sighed and sat down in the chair in front of the fire. He was never going to get the hang of this. He looked up above the mantelpiece and saw the portrait of a handsome man who looked remarkably like Oswald. His father most likely.

 

“I’m never going to be good enough, am I? Certainly not in time for whatever he’s planning.”

 

Oswald was organizing a small get together next week as his debut, nothing formal he promised but enough to get his foot out of the ground and into the door.

 

“You’re doing just fine, young man. He’s hard on you because he sees potential.”  

 

Ed startled and looked for the source of the sound. The portrait laughed at him.

 

“Over here, dear boy. Turn around.” Elijah smiled at him. “That’s better now. Nice to finally make your acquaintance.”

 

“And yours as well, Mister Van Dahl. You have a lovely home.”

 

“I should hope so, poured several fortunes into this old thing. Apologies for frightening you, I thought Oswald would have introduced us by now.”

 

“Forgive me sir, but I was under the impression you had passed.”

 

“Oh I am quite dead I can assure you but that’s no reason to neglect my guests. I hope you are enjoying your stay with us.”

 

“Very much so.” Ed looked around the room at all the other portraits who were doing a poor job of concealing their interest in the conversation. “Am I to assume every picture in this house is living?”

 

“As much as you can call this living, yes.” A woman stepped into his portrait and Elijah twined their fingers together. “Edward this is my late wife Gertrud. Darling, where have you been?”

 

“Osvald is carrying me in his pocket again. I keep moving between frames.” She peered down at Ed delightedly. “So siz is the gentleman caller, come closer let me look at you.”  

 

Ed sidestepped the insinuation and stepped closer to the frame. Gertrud looked him over approvingly. “Oh, he is a fine young man I like him very much. And what do you think of our Osvald? Is he not a gracious host? A consummate gentleman and scholar?”  

 

Just earlier this morning Oswald had screamed at him until he recited the Three Hundred Laws Of Leechery from memory. The rules that guided vampiric society were as old and dated as the society itself.

 

“He is….quite something. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like him.” Oh dear God, don’t let there be any more of him out there. He imagined himself at the dinner table with a dozen Oswalds and felt faint. He couldn’t decide whether that was the ideal evening or a nightmare.

 

Gertrud preened with pride and Elijah’s eyes gleamed knowingly. He seemed to have a better grasp of his son’s nature than his mother but that was as it should be.

 

Every child is perfect in their mother’s eyes.  

 

“Oh, he is a good boy is he not?” Her eyes suddenly turned dark and stormy. “My poor boy all alone in the world with no one to care for him.“ Elijah gestured to someone out of frame and a small boy ran into the picture and tugged at her skirts

 

“There, there darling, out boy’s right here see. He could never leave you for long.”

 

She picked the little lad up into her arms and he wrapped his arms around her neck smiling brightly.

 

“Mama, papa! I was in the garden and there was a bird in the tree so I followed him home and his nest was made of strings and the strings were made of - who’s that?” Oswald poked his head out from behind Gertrud's hair and pointed at Ed.  

 

He smiled and waved at him. “My name is Edward Nygma, nice to meet you.”

 

Oswald frowned and his chin wobbled. “I don’t know you and I don’t like you. Go away.”  

 

Ed chuckled. “I’m not going anywhere, little one. And what are you going to do about it?”

 

Oswald bared his fangs, a kitten that believed it was a tiger. Someday he would grow up to be fearsome and feral but for now, he was little more than a batling with twigs in his hair and blood in his teeth. How could Ed ever be frightened of such a thing? How could anyone?   

 

Elijah ruffled his hair. “Now, now my boy let’s behave ourselves - what would grandmere say if she heard you talking in that manner?”

 

“She’d take away my bloodlollies. And my bite scream.”

 

“Oh, she’d do a fair bit more than that. Gertrud, remember what your mother did when she caught me in your rooms in 1737?” Gertrud whispered to Oswald and his red eyes widened.

 

“I’m sorry Mister Niggs. Mister Nyg. Missster Nygmah.”  

 

“Ed will do just fine. Now tell me more about this bird of yours.”

 

Oswald’s face lit up as he described in lurid detail the short life and subsequent death of the magpie. Apparently, it had stolen a number of keys, clips, and rings and he had decided this was a biteable offense. He pulled feathers out of his pocket, bloody and mangled. Ed nodded along at all the right moments and a few of the wrong ones but Oswald didn’t seem to care.  

 

Elijah and Gertrud smiled at each other. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “He’s good for him.”

 

“They are good for each other.”

 

“Do you think he likes our boy as much as he does the miniature?”  

 

Gertrud smiled. Oswald had spent half the evening rambling into the locket that held her portrait about that fledgling and those questions and his clever eyes and that stubborn pride.

 

“I think he likes him well enough. Though not as much as Oswald might wish.”

 

Elijah sighed. “What are you planning?”  

 

She smiled, secretive and sly. It looked eerily similar to Oswald’s what-body-i- haven't-got-no-body-certainly-not-in-this-trunk smile.

 

Elijah resigned himself to his unwilling role in whatever schemes she devised.

 

And as he looked over his shoulder he saw Oswald enter the library, a tray full of warm blood in hand and he smiled. Because his son was looking at Edward the way Gertrud looks at him.

 

The way the night looks at the stars in all their splendor.

 

* * *

 

They sat in the parlor drinking their bloodwine and arguing over Victorian literature. Oswald seemed to be of the opinion that just because he met the authors that meant his opinions had more merit. Ed could never get him to confess how old he actually was and was rebuked every time he asked. Still, it was of little matter in the here and now. No, what mattered now was embarrassing him thoroughly.

 

“You were adorable you know. What happened?”  

 

Oswald swatted him with a butter knife and spread screeching eels across his toast. “I was, I am, I remain - devilishly handsome and don’t you forget it.”

 

Ed hummed noncommittally. As if anyone could fail to notice great beauty when they saw it.

Oswald was a head turner not only because of his frequent beheadings but because of the curl of his smile and the cut of his stare. It burned through him as assuredly as any crucifix.

 

Not that he would ever say as much. Wouldn’t do to let him think too highly of himself, as it was he was seconds away from erecting a statue of himself in the town square. If he had any idea how lovely he truly he was he’d be absolutely insufferable. For this reason and many others, he would never tell him.

“You’re adequate, I suppose.”  

 

Oswald screeched and hurled a silver spoon at him, Ed ducked and tossed a pickled toad back at him. It soon diverged into an out war with blood bags spilled every which way and Oswald’s hair streaked with B-. He shook his hair out and splashed him with it.

 

Ed took off his bloodsoaked jacket and twisted the liquid loose dumping it all over him. Oswald tackled him to the floor and they wrestled for the last blood bag, determined to be the victor.

 

Ed pinned him to the floor and pressed his hand up against his windpipe.

 

“Do you yield?”

 

“Never.”  

 

Ed’s teeth grazed against his neck and Oswald’s eyes widened.

 

“And what say you now?”

 

“I-I-”

 

“Well, well well boys look at what a mess you’ve made.” Barbara tapped her stiletto heel straight through the blood bag and splattered the remains. “You’ve made a ruin of yourselves and more importantly me.” The long white train of her gown trailed in the refuge and residue.

 

Oswald sat up suddenly pushing Ed off him. “You told me you were coming tomor-”

 

“Change of plots. My cemetery booked me in the wrong one and I need a place to decay.” She smirked and looked at them consideringly. “Unless you’ve got better things to do.”  

 

Ed pulled them both up off the floor and straightened himself up as best he could. “Displeasure to meet you miss but as you can see we’re in no condition to receive guests and the hotel is closed.

 

Barbara draped herself over the loveseat by the fire and snapped her fingers. The blood wiped clean and Ed’s mouth watered for the missed opportunities.

She twirled her fingers once more and her luggage appeared. “Be a damnation and get that for me. Ozzie and I have to talk.”

 

Ed turned to Oswald for approval and he nodded his agreement. Best to do do what she says now and stab her later. Ed picked up the luggage which weighed just about as much as him and heaved it over his shoulders. They watched in amusement as he struggled to carry them up the stairs.

 

Barbara’s eyes lingered on his neck. “Fresh blood hmmm. Never took you for a graverobber, Ozzie but I can see why you’d make an exception.”  

 

Oswald slapped her hand. “Eyes off the fledgling. He’s under my protection.”  

 

She whistled low and mocking. “Oh this is just too good, you’re not even gonna eat him? Why not with a neck like that? And legs up to his legs my gossamer.”  

 

Oswald sighed and reminded himself that she was a dear old friend emphasis on old. Senile at any rate and he couldn’t hold her responsible for the nonsense her feeble ancient mind conjured.

 

“I wonder what your wife will have to say about this. Your beady eyes starting to wander?”

 

Barbara summoned a cocktail of witch’s brew and pointed it pointedly at him.“You leave the missus out of this and let’s talk terms. Do you want to sell the place or not?”  

 

Oswald looked out over the mansion. These hallowed, haunted halls. Just a month ago he was ready to leave it all behind, the ghosts that followed him everywhere he turned had turned the memories of his childhood into stakes through his heart. Now all he could see was Ed in the library talking to his mother and father about amulets and curses, cursing the day he ever let him through the door. He should have never invited him in because there was no way he could leave it now. His absent fantasy of a nightclub laid to rest. He had responsibilities now. Someone to care for and be cared for in return. He hadn’t had that in years. Centuries.

 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your measly offer.”

 

She didn’t look particularly offended or surprised.

 

“Well let me plan the dreaded day at least.”

Oswald smiled, suddenly remembering why he hadn’t killed her along with the rest of his friends.

 

“There’s another task you can sink your teeth into if you like.”  

 

She grinned and it looked like a grimace.

 

And a promise.

 

* * *

 

Oswald was determined to have the mansion fit for a killing and they devoted themselves to the task. Well, Ed did at least. Oswald and Barbara sat around and told him where to move things. He didn’t much mind, he enjoyed freshening up the place. Although Oswald’s idea of decorating left something to be desired - severed heads dangling from the ceiling didn’t exactly scream fashion mostly because they couldn’t stop screaming. Ed poked one with the handle of a broomstick.

 

“Now that’s enough out of you lot, we’ve got company coming and I want you on your best behavior is that understood?”

 

The heads chattered amongst themselves excitedly and he figured that was as good as a yes.

 

The place was looking wretched - cobwebs strone every which way and blood dripping down the walls. It was hateful. It was horrible. Ed smiled. Perfection.  

 

For three nights the Van Dahl estate was back in business. Oswald’s definition of a “small and intimate gathering” slightly differed from his own but that didn’t bother him very much. No the thing that smarted was Barbara whispering in Oswald’s ear and the accompanying smiles.

 

Through no fault of his own, Ed had found himself under his thrall and he’d be staked before he let anyone take his place in Oswald’s affections. Attentions. Instructions.

 

What use did she have for him? She already had over a hundred years to learn from his graces and disgraces and now she was back to soak up more of his knowledge. His kindness.

 

It was shameful is what it was.

 

The guests arrived in a flurry and the house was overrun by monsters. They were despicable with their constant demands for freshly soured skulls and ancient texts. Ed found himself running ragged around the mummies and torn in two by necromancers. Don’t even get him started on the troll in the dungeon.

 

At the end of a long night, he found himself at the check-in desk longing for the comfort of his coffin. Such comfort was not to be. The Falcone coven arrived with a demand for seventeen additional rooms. To no avail, he explained the lack of availability. A severe woman with undead eyes stared him down and he found himself giving her his tomb key.

 

Ed sighed. He could sleep in the cupboard if necessary. He opened up the linen closet and pulled sheets off the shelves. Wrapped them around himself and leaned back against the wall. It would have to do.

 

The light switch flickers on and Ed opened his eyes to a holier than thou hotelier.

 

“What fresh hell is this?”

 

“The rooms were double booked it was either that or stick them in a mass grave and I didn’t think they would appreciate that.”

 

Oswald rolled his eyes and pulled him out of the linen closet. “Follow me.”  

 

Ed wrapped the bed sheets tighter around himself and stifled a yawn. “I’m fine, really you don’t have to worry about me.”

 

“And yet here I am, worried about you constantly.” He led him up the stairs into the master suite and took off his jacket, hanging it up. He gestured inelegantly at the coffin. “Well go on then.”

 

Ed shuffled over like a zombie no worse than that because zombies had a sense of direction at least. He offered up a token protest that was muffled into the silk lining. “I can’t take your be-”

 

Oswald turned around behind the screen, fully changed into his nightclothes. Striped, satin, and sheer under the right light. Or the wrong one depending on your perspective. 

 

Ed suddenly felt violently, viciously awake.

 

“You’re not taking anything from me. We’re sharing.”  

 

Oh. Oh dear. Oh dear, it all to heck.

 

“I’ll just take the cupboard really it's no trouble, I don’t mind confined spaces.”

 

Unless that confined spaces happened to contain one Cobblepot. That he minded much too much.

 

“If you think you’re getting a moment's rest without me, you’re wrong. Budge over.”  

 

The lid of the coffin lifted up even higher and Oswald scooted in.  

 

The coffin was designed to fit one deceased human or perhaps a large number of snakes but not two vampires. Two vampires scrunched in like soul-sucking sardines.

“Perhaps I’d better just -”

 

“Move your elbow -”

 

“Stop squirming and settle down-”  

 

Ed caught him about the waist and his red eyes shuddered. “Let me fix this, alright?”

 

“Yes, Edward whatever you like.” Oswald was mortified to realize how very true that was.

 

In his very long life, he could count on one hand the number of people he would die for.

And one person he could live for.

 

Ed pulled them flush together, Oswald’s head nestled in his collarbone. Ed’s arms wrapped around the small of his back and Oswald’s hands on his chest.

 

It’s a good thing they no longer needed to breathe or they would have surely died.

 

More than this: Sharp nose jutted against skin, harsh hands and the absence of a heartbeat.

 

More than this: Sharpened senses entirely too aware of every aborted gesture, every absent minded mumble.

 

And then there was sunlight, dreaded and unwelcome and they slept right through it.

 

Oswald woke to find himself trapped in limbs that were much too long, angular bones and teeth cutting into his shoulder. He struggled in vain as Ed clung to his veins and he stopped fighting back. Let him take what he wished. Let him take it all if that’s what sated him.

 

He smoothed back his hair and ran his fingers through the curls. Ed slept on, entirely unaware.

 

He reached for his wrist and traced the blue lines. Ed didn’t know what he was doing, couldn’t possibly understand the significance. But he could feel the bond pressing down on his chest, the link between them growing more by the minute and yet he was unwilling to stop it. How could he, when the last link he felt faded with his father’s death?

 

He used to feel his mother’s blood coursing through him and now he was nothing but the graveyard of all the people who had ever loved him. If he allowed this to continue he would feel something again. And that was better than walking around as a lifeless husk. He knew Ed could never return his affections but he was here and he was warm and it was more than enough.

 

Ed bit down harder and he told himself it was a kindness.

 

He belonged to him now as he had never belonged to anyone but that didn’t mean Ed was his in return. He deserved more than a dusty old house and a half-hearted man lost to his grief.  

 

The half moon of his fingernail scrapped against Ed’s skin and he stopped himself before he tore it apart. One drop and Ed would be his forever. And he would never forgive him for it.

 

Oswald reluctantly untangled himself with care, replacing his neck with the pillow. Ed didn’t seem to notice the difference and it gutted him that he was little more than softness.

 

No matter. It isn’t as if it would happen again.

 

The preparations for Edward’s debut were well underway. His coming of age would be marked with fanfare but not for himself but for the guests. The purpose of the event was to prove his emergence into their circle was complete and that he had abandoned his mortal life entirely.

 

If by the end of the evening someone discovered him to be a fledgling he would be cast out until next year when he would be permitted a second chance. It was the height of scandal to need a second let alone a third attempt and Oswald would be twice damned before he let anyone discover him. Even he wasn’t permitted to know his identity.

 

Every guest would be blindfolded and escorted by a ghost. They would be led the rest of the evening by the apparitions and if at the end of the night someone pulled off Edward’s ribbon he would be unveiled - as either or a triumph or a disgrace. If a senior leader of a coven found him and took a liking to him they were free to unmask him then and there.

 

Oswald resented the ribbons and found the tradition archaic but it pleased the Old Set. As he circled the room he kept his eyes closed and turned his ear to any news of him. The whispers seem more concerned with Oswald himself and the disgrace he was to his father’s legacy.

 

Well, eavesdroppers got what they deserved he supposed. As he passed by he heard screams as the guest’s champagne turned to ash in their mouth. What a shame.

 

As he moved he knocked into a tall gentleman and they knocked over his glass. Blood spilled on the ballroom floor and the sensation of warmth against his skin as they handed him back his glass. Much, much too warm. Oswald tore of his ribbon but the figure had fled.

 

He needed to find Edward and he needed to find him now.

 

He concentrated and he could feel the pull of the link across the room and he followed it.

 

“Come along, Edward we have to get out of here.”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about my name is -”  

 

“Save the pleasantries. There’s a hunter in our midst.”  

 

Ede tore off his ribbon and scanned the room, eyes flickering from brown to depthless black.

 

“No sight of him.”  

 

“Stop looking with your eyes then.”  

 

Oswald hooked him down by the shoulder and pressed their foreheads together. A vision of the room and all the dancers disappeared till one man remained. He flickered and the image shifted as he turned into a thousand bats that flew out the window.

 

_Wayne, damn him._

 

Oswald rushed to the balcony just as he was climbing over the walls and he pulled him back over. His cane turned and twisted into an axe and Wayne pulled a stake out from his tuxedo jacket. He held up his hands and smiled disarmingly.

 

“Good to see you, Oswald. How’s the family?”

 

His axe barely missed his face as Wayne dodged out of the way. He laughed.

 

“You’re just like your mother - just a little bit too slow.”

 

The axe cut through the jacket sleeve and tore it in two. Blood glistened and every vampire in the ballroom turned at the scent of it.

 

Wayne slashed and stabbed right through the air hitting the place where his heart ought to be - though not the heart he intended to catch.

 

Ed bled and bowed down from the weight in his chest and Oswald barely managed to catch him before he hit the floor. “You are the stupidest man I’ve ever met.” Oswald hissed furiously as he ripped up the fabric of his jacket sleeve. “Drink. _Now.”_

 

He shoved his wrist into his mouth and Ed latched down, eyes blown wide.

 

Oswald pulled at his arm and raised it to his lips. “Blood transfusion. May I?”

 

Ed nodded until his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out. Oswald drank and he drank until all the pain left Ed’s body and passed into his own. He wiped his mouth clean and tried not to dwell on the taste. Or he’d dive back in and take the rest.

 

Slowly, steadily he eased him up and snapped his fingers.  

 

Attendants appeared and they carried him up to the master suite and laid him to rest.

 

Oswald stood in the doorway and tried to ignore the second pulse beneath his skin.  

 

Sofia Falcone turned up in short time and short temper.

 

“We had an agreement. The fledgling was to be pledged to my coven.”

 

“The fledgling has a name. Edward. And our agreement was never formalized I merely offered you first draft as you were the best option available at the time. Other avenues have since presented themselves.”

 

She laughed. “You want him all to yourself? You’re not even his sire. If you had made him you could break him and no one would bat an eye. But he belongs to someone. Not you.”  

 

Oswald pulled at the back of his jacket and his button up revealing the bite mark on his shoulder, in addition to the one on his wrist. “I think he’s staked his claim rather well.”

 

“You’d let him rule you?”  

 

“You’ll never understand, how could you-you never learned the meaning of sacrifice.”  

 

She rolled her eyes. “How selfless of you, old spinster that you are to give up half your life source to someone young and impressionable. Yes, you are a paragon of virtue.”  

 

“He’s twenty-seven, he’s not a child.”

 

“A drop in the muddied ocean that is you. Break the bond. Give him to me.”

 

“And what would you do with him -fester and feed until he’s a blackened sore on your tongue?”

 

She smiled wide and wicked. “I’ll give him to Barbara of course. Anniversary present.”  

 

Oswald sighed and pressed his head into his hands. “I still don’t know what she sees in you.”  

 

Her eyes twinkled deviously. “Oh, all the worst parts I can assure you. Or best depending on your preferences.”  

 

“Get out of my sickroom, harpy.”

 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, the imprint of her teeth against his skin. “When you’re through with him, give us a call. We’ll do brunch.”

 

Oswald hoped to gods it wasn’t mandatory. His last brunch was with a djinn in the 1880s and it did not fare well. He was still pulling slime off his favorite fur.

 

* * *

 

Ed woke up seven days later with the sun burning in his chest. He screamed and howled, a terrible treacherous sound that betrayed him. Oswald ran into the room and placed his hand on his forehead and the agony lifted instantaneously. He smiled up at him thankfully and Oswald -

 

Oswald looked like a dead man walking. He didn’t know it was possible for an immortal to look so weathered and weary. Ed squeezed his hand. “What have you done now?”

 

Eyes sharpened. “Nothing half so foolish as you. What on earth did you think you were doing?”

 

“Saving you. I thought that was self-evident. Or are you going blind in your old age?”  

 

Oswald frowned and snatched his hand away and Ed was hesitant but he had to be sure.

 

“I-I  remember, I remember what you’ve done but I’m not sure what it means.”  

 

“You needed me just as I needed you. There was nothing for it. We formed a coven.”

Ed looked at him in confusion. “I thought only the Falcones could appoint a coven leader.”

 

“A coven is nothing more or less than a family bond. And I’m your family now, whether you like it or not. We’re merely formalizing the arrangement.”  

 

“What does it entail?”  

 

“Well on the practical side of things you’ll be listed as my next of kin and entitled to half of everything I own. You’ll get a say in all financial decisions and household affairs. As far as the vampiric benefits well - my blood is yours as yours is mine. And once you drank from me, we were linked. It’s not an agreement I would enter into lightly but Edward - Ed you were fading and fast. And I couldn’t allow that to happen.”  

“Why do you care so much, what am I to you?”

 

“When you’ve lived as long as I have you’ll understand.” Oswald sighed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Edward, I have lost so much. My mother, my father - we may not know each other very well but we have lifetimes to learn. You have been a friend to me and I won’t lose you too.”  

 

“This bond - it doesn’t sound much like family. It sounds like something else.”

 

“It’s whatever you want it to be. I - I am whatever you want me to be.”  

 

Ed smiled and turned his hand over, palm up. A welcome.

 

“Let’s see where it goes.”

 

* * *

 

Eighty years later they stood in front of Sofia and Barbara’s orphanage looking through a sea of lost souls. They were supposed to be sorted down to hell ages ago but someone had a soft spot for strays apparently.  

 

They looked through the usual motley crew - mum less mummies, shifters and witches and still they couldn’t find them. It was starting to worry them both though Oswald refused to admit it.

 

“He was supposed to be here fifty years ago what’s taking him so long?”

 

Oswald patted his hand consolingly and tried to contain his own nerves. “He’ll get here when he gets here and not a moment too soon.”  

 

Ed sighed and leaned his head to press against Oswald’s, drawing from his strength. “I just don’t know how much longer I can take the visions if we’re not going to see him properly.”

 

Ed’s full transformation had some unfortunate drawbacks mainly the persistent clairvoyance. It made him intolerable to play chess with and impossible to shop for.

 

Oswald stood up on his toes and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “My dearest dread, you mustn't fret. Our family will grow soon enough and until that day comes you are all I need to get by.”

 

Ed hummed contentedly and pressed his nose into his hair. “Yes, my darling demise. Anything you say.”

 

Oswald laughed fond and exasperated. “You’re not even listening to me anymore.”  

 

Ed didn’t bother to deny it. He never could hear a word when he was holding him, the rest of the world shut out and all his finely tuned senses focused on the fine feathered man. His third eyes bright and open and he saw eternity by his side.

 

He just wished the rest of their party would arrive as scheduled.  

 

A strangled cough broke them apart and Barbara had her eyes on the ceiling, Sofia beside her with an arm around her waist. 

 

"They're vile, aren't they  _darling dead dearest demise."_ Sofia's voice in a sickening falsetto.

 

Barbara pressed her hand against her chest and threw her hand to her forehead. "M _y blackened heart beats for thee._ Gag me with a rosary."  

 

They laughed and Oswald scowled. 

 

"Unless you have something substantial to contribute to the conversation don't speak."  

 

Barbara hissed. "Ozzie, Ozzie, Ozzie - is that any way to talk to a lady?" 

 

"You're not a woman, you're the pinnacle of depravity."  

 

"Touchy. You finally get laid -to rest - and you're still so sour. I don't know how you can live with him." 

 

Ed shrugged easy and unbothered. "I make do."  

 

Sofia stepped in before it developed into a full out fist fight, as was likely to occur. "Oswald, I have something of yours. Would you like to see it?" 

 

Ed grabbed his hand and held tight. "Yes, yes we would like that very much."  

 

She led them into the nursery and there he was. So small and so good, you could hardly stand to look at him. Oswald reached into the cradle and picked him up as gently as his mother would have. He supported his head and looked down into those eyes and knew that he would give anything, kill anything for the child in his arms. "He has your eyes." He told Ed. Impossible but somehow true. 

 

Ed's smile as bright as the morning sun. Oswald hadn't seen the sun in so many years but it must look just like this. 

 

"Well, he is a _blood relative."_ He stifled a laugh, unable to stop smiling. He had seen this moment so many times in visions but nothing compared to the truth of it. 

 

Martin opened his eyes and smiled up at them, a mouth full of fangs. Ed stuck his hand out to push back his curls and Martin bit him. He yelped. 

 

Oswald cooed and fawned over him, as proud a parent as there ever was. "He's a Cobblepot alright." 

**Author's Note:**

> batman the vampire slayer.  
> tumblr: happygoloony


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